


Touch

by Pegggy21



Series: Derek and Stiles in the woods [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sweet Ending, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Wolfsbane Poisoning, feel good, not sad the entire time I swear, omega hunt, protective!derek hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 07:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegggy21/pseuds/Pegggy21
Summary: Derek notices no one really touches Stiles and does something about it





	Touch

Stiles’ mom was a very tactile person. When she passed by him she would run her fingers across his shoulders, or play with his hair, when they watched movies or tv she would scratch his back. Something. When she got sick she had less energy but she still found some to make Stile’s feel loved. Then she died. No one really touched him after that.

Without anyone really noticing Stiles began to comfort himself. At school he would play with his side burns or run his fingers across his jaw. At home he would run his hand along his arm watching movies, or draw shapes on his legs when talking with his dad. When he would go to Scott’s Melissa would sometimes mess his hair, and Scott was a cuddlewolf. He would still run his thumb nail along his bottom lip, or draw circles on the back of his hand. When he drove he constantly rubbed his fingers over and against one another. His panic attacks brought it out in full force. They were a tell. He wouldn’t even realize, sometimes, that one was coming on. But his hand would obsessively find his sideburn, or his jaw, he couldn’t stop up and down, up and down, up and down. Then the panic would hit. He would aggressively run his hands through his hair or up and down his arms, trying to breathe. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.

Derek noticed little things at first. Stiles fidgeting, the rocking, the talking with his hands. At first he found it annoying. Then he really started watching. The first time he noticed was when John had a doctor’s appointment for his heart. Stiles’ was at the loft for lunch with Derek and Isaac. Stiles was his usual bouncy self, but as the lunch progressed his hands wondered to his sideburns. His leg bounced like normal and he talked as fast, but his hands were neglecting the conversation. They were running along his hair and jaw, he was rubbing his hands together with his fingers interlocked. His normally animated face dropped when he thought they weren’t looking. Derek could smell the underlying anxiety and sadness on him, mixed with Aderall and something very Stiles. Derek didn’t say anything but tucked it away for another time. 

The next time he noticed was when Stiles and Scott had a fight, Stiles came to Derek’s loft to cool off. Boy was that a change in things, Derek remembered when Stiles wouldn’t be in the same car as him. Derek was making dinner for the pack in the kitchen and trying to not watch Stiles. The boy was sitting on the couch staring at the muted tv. He was aggressively running the flat of his finger nails across his lips, then pulling at his abused sideburns. Back and forth he went, making his lips even more pink. Derek tried talking to him but Stiles shushed him. Derek couldn’t help but chuckle in spite of the teens distress. Derek smelled again, and again he found anxiety and sadness.

Then shit his the fan. Two rouge omegas attacked Derek, and Ethan out in the woods just after the full moon. They shot Derek with a wolfsbane bullet, and knocked Ethan so hard in the head even a wolf would need time to recuperate. Derek dragged Ethan back to the car and their phones. The world spun around him, he felt bile hit the back of this throat, and he couldn’t help the black tar vomit that he coughed up. He crawled to the car and found his phone, desperately trying to call Stiles. He hit Stile’s contact, when the boy answered all Derek could manage was gasping his name. ‘Stiles, pleas- Stii-‘ He could hear Stiles saying things but couldn’t understand them. He knew Stiles had the gps on his phone and would find them ‘wolfsbane, in the- bull-et’ he hoped the boy understood. He didn’t know how long he was draped half in his car feeling the poison coursing through is veins before he heard the racket of the Jeep. Stiles leapt out, his hands full of things. He knelt next to Derek and cut his shirt off to see the bullet hole, near his navel above his hip. Stiles lit the wolfsbane in his hand and ground it into his wound, looking very green. When it was apparent Derek wouldn’t die in the next few breaths Stiles dashed to the woods and vomited a few times. He came back and leaned against the car with Derek running his hand against the nape of his neck and down his jawline. Derek smelled the now familiar mix of anxiety and sadness that accompanied this gesture, and put his hand on Stiles’ knee.  
“Thanks, you gonna be ok?” Stiles laughed in his face, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, blood freaks you out, its a legit question.”  
“Yeah, Der, I’m gonna be fine. What about you? Any long lasting effect on your perfect abs?” Derek laughed and shook his head no. He kept his hand on Stiles and patted him a bit until he felt strong enough to drive back to the loft. Ethan was not happy about being man handled not only into a car but also into the loft, but they ignored him.

Stiles insisted on staying the night after that to make sure Derek didn’t die in the middle of the night. Derek didn’t fight him, the scent of anxiety and sadness was permeating the room. Derek took a shower and changed into sweats and a teeshirt, and brought out similar clothed for Stiles.  
“If I’m Miguel you’re Jose.” He smiled at Stiles and they chuckled.  
“That’s only fair a guess.” They settled into their respective beds and Derek noticed Stiles was more aggressively pulling and stroking his sideburns and jaw. Derek frowned as he drifted off, smelling the rancid anxiety he was getting used to ramp up. Derek slept for some time when he was woken by a sound. He blinked for a moment before hearing it again, someone gasping. He went to Stiles who was awake, but sitting with his knees pulled to his chest. He was frowning hard and gasping for breath. Derek called him a few times, until the teen opened his eyes and looked at him. Derek sat next to him and put his arm around him, seeing if it helped. Stiles leaned into Derek, still gasping. Derek ran his hands over Stiles’ arms and spoke quietly till he calmed down. They talked for a bit after, about weightless things. Stiles remained glued to Derek’s side till they fell asleep. 

The next day was Saturday and that was pack brunch day, Lydia would kill anyone who didn’t show without good reason. Derek and Stiles always seemed to sit together, Derek now had a plan. As they ate he made a point to touch Stiles’. He’d throw his arm over his shoulders, or bump their shoulders together, knock his knee into Stiles’, anything. He was subtle, but the anxiety and sadness seemed to recede a little, not completely but enough Derek knew what he was gonna do. On movie night Derek just so happened to be next to he only spot available. Stiles squeezed in next to him and Derek put his arm across his shoulders. Stile’s didn’t seem to notice, which was good because Derek had no answers. Throughout the movie Stiles relaxed farther and farther into Derek’s side. Before either of them knew it Stiles’ head was on Derek’s shoulder and his legs were in Scott’s lap. Derek couldn’t smell any anxiety now, and only the smallest hint of sadness. Derek could feel a smile pull at his lips, he was gonna do everything he could to help this kid. No one deserved to be as alone as he was.


End file.
